The following epic blog entry, or blepic, comes as I concluded a week-long guided walking holiday along the French Riviera for Headwater. The guests, 6 of them this week, stay in a seaside hotel near the quaint town of Le Lavandou, in between Marseille and Nice. Every day I pick them up at their hotel and take them to explore the most beautiful walking paths the region has to offer, whether the coastline trail or on the "Golden Islands".
I hope you enjoy the photos I took and some of the anecdotes. It was a very successful week, enjoyed by all... (or at least that's what they told me...)
Day 1: Porquerolles Island
Porquerolles is the largest of the three "Golden Islands", and provides the best terrain as a testing ground for a group's ability: there is a real spiderweb of paths on the island, allowing the guide to lengthen or shorten the walk to various degrees.
The walk begins on its flat northern shores, and atop the silver sands of the Plage d'Argent, seen below.
Up to 3000 tourists visit the island daily, which is a lot considering the permanent island population counts only 300 souls. Luckily for us, few people venture far from the port area, leaving the walking paths to us. Here is our lunchtime perch, 100m above the sea, where we can admire views of the port, the coastline, and the Mediterranean at large.
Here's a 360 degree video view from the top of the island...
Day 2: A glorious coastal walk
This is without a doubt my favourite walk of the week. Of course I don't tell that to my guests, especially considering there are more walks to come...
Here we are about 10 km west of the guests' hotel, on a stretch of pristine coastline of jaw-dropping beauty. Our coastal path leads us down to several emerald coves, where we can enjoy the French Riviera in all its untamed majesty. Maintained by a government agency since the 70s, there are 800km of coastline in France protected from the resort-complex-building-and-tourist-leeching stretches of coastline too often present in other Mediterranean destinations...
Far left in the photo below is our final destination for the day, the Fort de Brégançon: a centuries' old fort converted into a summer residence for the President of France. The current president, whose current wife's family owns even better real estate about 20km east of here -- n'est ce pas -- does not use the fort residence...
Here we are halfway through the walk, at the Estagnol beach. As the Mediterranean was still only 17°C, no one was brave enough to take a dip,
Except Me. No one did buy me that beer for going in...
The Estagnol beach boasts a great seaside restaurant, giving us a welcome break from our walking. We feast on market fresh vegetables served in a giant cork bowl with anchovy sauce and olive tapenade. Along with some wood oven pizzas (who eats just vegetables?).
Too stuffed to begin walking after our lunch, I decide to initiate the group in the Provençal game/art of boules (pétanque). Here is Shirley caught midair in her attempt...
two points for the rusties!!! Now let's get back to some coastal walking!
Day 3: Bormes les Mimosas
This particular walk was not originally part of the holiday; I included it when I started guiding, to add a little culture/village/market to the mix of coastal walks. It begins at sea level, in the heart of Le Lavandou, only a 5 minute transfer from my guests' hotel. Today we climb on a path that cuts between lavishly flowered villas, and up to the perched village of Bormes les Mimosas. Though the village is almost a thousand years old, the mimosa wasn't introduced to the French Riviera until the mid 18th century. Today it decorates the entire town, filling the air with its delicately sweet perfume in the winter, encircling the village homes like a giant yellow halo.
This particular walk was not originally part of the holiday; I included it when I started guiding, to add a little culture/village/market to the mix of coastal walks. It begins at sea level, in the heart of Le Lavandou, only a 5 minute transfer from my guests' hotel. Today we climb on a path that cuts between lavishly flowered villas, and up to the perched village of Bormes les Mimosas. Though the village is almost a thousand years old, the mimosa wasn't introduced to the French Riviera until the mid 18th century. Today it decorates the entire town, filling the air with its delicately sweet perfume in the winter, encircling the village homes like a giant yellow halo.
Some varieties of mimosa, like the one I photographed below, bloom in the spring and summer.
Here we've reached the village after about an hour's walk, and take a little break at a great vantage point. You may be able to make out the ruins of the medieval castle at the upper left portion of the village.
Wednesday is market day in Bormes les Mimosas. We spend some time meandering among the stalls and taking in the market ambiance.
But our climbing isn't done yet: from the village we find a pilgrim's path and begin a steep climb towards the chapel of Notre Dame de Constance, perched at 325m (1000ft) above sea level. On the way we find this fellow sunning himself on a rock.
Once at the chapel, washed of our sins, we take out our picnics and enjoy the view from 1000ft above the sea. Wow, we started from all the way down there!!
In the far background, beyond the coastline, are two of the "Golden islands". Later in the week we will make an unplanned visit to the island on the right -- the national park of Port Cros.
Having had too much wine with my lunch, the horizon begins to look less than horizontal. Or perhaps it's altitude sickness kicking in?
Day 4: a walk in the Backcountry
Having had too much wine with my lunch, the horizon begins to look less than horizontal. Or perhaps it's altitude sickness kicking in?
Returning to the town of Bormes les Mimosas, we stroll through the narrow streets of the village. This town has been awarded many prizes for its flowers, once receiving the prize as "best flowered village" in all of Europe...
Day 4: a walk in the Backcountry
Today's walk takes us slightly inland, to the quaint and timeless village of Collobrières. Though close to the Riviera, many of these "inland" villages have been spared from the grasp of tourism, and remain authentic.
The ruins of the 12th century church stand above the village, left to the elements. It was deemed too small to reconstuct on the same site, and so a larger church was built in the village centre.
Having done this same walk about 15 times (as many times as I've guided this holiday), I had never seen such an abundance of wildflowers here. Probably due to a particularly wet spring, we are treated to a symphony of colour, odour, and overall beauty. In the foreground is a type of wild lavender common along the coastline and on the islands.
Here's me at our lunchspot, after a considerable climb, overlooking the valley below.
Speaking of our lunch spot, here's a little video...
And off to China for a bamboo forest:
And quickly back to France. Travelling is easy!
three cistus flowers snuggling a cork tree...
After our lunch we tackle a steep descent, winding down into the valley, through chestnut and oak forest.
After our long descent we reach the valley bottom and take a break alongside the river. Its cool waters soothe our aching feet...
Day 5: A Yacht for not
The only rainy day of the week comes today, which was set for our private yacht outing, complete with champagne lunch on board. CANCELLED. And so it was time to improvise a plan B: a trip to the National Park of Port Cros, which was a welcome relief to some in the group who were not too keen on spending the whole day sitting and swaying on a boat.
The only rainy day of the week comes today, which was set for our private yacht outing, complete with champagne lunch on board. CANCELLED. And so it was time to improvise a plan B: a trip to the National Park of Port Cros, which was a welcome relief to some in the group who were not too keen on spending the whole day sitting and swaying on a boat.
The trip to the island of Port Cros requires a 30 minute ferry nonetheless, departing from the centre of Le Lavandou, only a 5 minute drive from my guests' hotel. 
We've reached the tiny port of the National Park, with only a handfew of people disembarking on the island -- at least there are some advantages to bad weather. Everyone in the group is keen to discover the interior paths by foot, despite a 5th straight walking day, a day that was supposed to entail simply laying on the deck of a sailing yacht.
Leaving the port, the wilderness is immediate and pure. The island boasts enormous cork trees and an altogether luxuriant vegetation by Mediterranean standards. It's a simple reminder of how a Mediterranean forest can appear when left untouched and protected.
We begin a steady climb through the Vallon de la Solitude, a shaded valley whose path runs alongside a stream. Our climb lasts about an hour.
Port Cros is the smallest of the Golden Islands but is the hilliest: at the outset of our descent we have a remarkable view of the port and its waters. Our walk lasts about three hours altogether and we only cross paths with two people... On the ferry ride back to Le Lavandou, here's my attempt at cubism, photographically speaking...
Day 6: From Plage des Salins to St. Tropez...
I find myself slightly lost driving through St. Tropez with their new and wonderful changes in one-way traffic. We finally make it to the Plage des Salins, start of our coastal walk, and a very civilized start it is: a drink at the beachfront restaurant (or rather an excuse to use the restaurant washrooms before beginning our walk).
The coastal path is leisurely but it's a hot day and there's no shade to be found. It's hard to believe, only a stone's throw from St. Tropez, the coastline remains so untamed.
As a treat for our last walk, and feeling bad that our yacht trip was cancelled, I surprize the group by pulling a bottle of champagne from my pack. Our picnic lunch follows at the same spot.
walking through a natural archway formed by a manicured hedge, and continuing alongside hillsides blanketed by wildflowers.
As a treat for our last walk, and feeling bad that our yacht trip was cancelled, I surprize the group by pulling a bottle of champagne from my pack. Our picnic lunch follows at the same spot.
walking through a natural archway formed by a manicured hedge, and continuing alongside hillsides blanketed by wildflowers.
After a long day in the sun, we finally make it to St. Tropez, where we quickly switch backpacks for Louis Vuiton handbags, and contemplate the alternate universe of monsterous yachts and glamour in all its forms. Such a sudden change from the natural coastline...
As luck would have it, we enter the town on the day it honours St. Tropez, a 1st century martar who was decapitated for his conversion to Christianity. His body was sent on a raft and floated to the shores of the town that now carries his name. A traditional military parade, complete with a few gazillion gunshots, doesn't sway our attentions from finding the best ice cream parlour on the harbour and resting our tired legs...
Day 7: the Botanical gardens
Day 7: the Botanical gardens
Before leaving for Marseille airport, I take the group to see a marvelous botanical garden just a few kilometres east of their hotel. The gardens are split into several sections, each representing a different "Mediterranean-type" climate in the world.
Some New Zealand tree ferns:
And off to China for a bamboo forest:
And quickly back to France. Travelling is easy!
Epilogue...
Just a note to thank my family away from home at the Hotel California (such a lovely place): Hélène, her three children, and of course Winnie the manic-depressive dog. Yes, there is a hotel called the Hotel California (predating the song!), and I stay there while guiding this holiday. I've tallied just over 100 nights there, and have been accepted with open arms as a member of their family... merci pour tout.
Just a note to thank my family away from home at the Hotel California (such a lovely place): Hélène, her three children, and of course Winnie the manic-depressive dog. Yes, there is a hotel called the Hotel California (predating the song!), and I stay there while guiding this holiday. I've tallied just over 100 nights there, and have been accepted with open arms as a member of their family... merci pour tout.
